Empty Spaces
by optimouse
Summary: Slash. The 1970's were a time of inspiration, of growth, of renewal, and of death. In the British Glam Rock scene, there was a singer named Romulus. Read and Review


disclaimer: As a writer, I will show great amounts of humility in stating that I own none of the characters in this story. As a person, I wish that I did own them. The plot bits that you don't recognize from Velvet Goldmine or Harry Potter are mine.

* * *

Several years ago:

"Remus, is this Sirius in the picture?" Harry held up a picture, as Remus crossed the room, stepping in front of the taller teen to look at the picture.

Long shaggy black hair had the tips dyed blue, and glitter sparkled from the blue eyeshadow. Eyeliner lined Sirius' eyes, and Remus's eyes traced the familiar pouty lips… they were in a glimmering pink lipstick that matched the pink flares that hugged Sirius' groin, bottom, and thighs. Sirius was wearing a silver net shirt, and the platforms were barely visible at the bottom of the picture; they were a brilliant pink.

"The platform boots had a name. Sirius called them his Flamingo boots." Harry heard the nostalgia in Remus' voice.

"Why?" The word was simple, and Harry watched Remus' face as it tightened. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"It's time for you to know, anyway." Remus stated.

"I was thirteen when I went to a concert, near my house."

* * *

Past:

Remus looked at his door, the chair propped under the door handle, the padlocks that he'd created at Hogwarts, and installed the muggle way-- locked tight. Tonight wasn't a full moon, but close enough that he felt weakened, and the fact that his parents were arguing about him again had prompted him to remove the bars on his window.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the musicians had been coming in to the little hamlet for weeks, and Remus wanted to go see what the building had been about.

His jeans were ragged, and he'd pulled on a sleeveless tank-it was too hot for sleeves, in his opinion, and besides, his long sleeved shirts were either bloody or unwashed, or part of his Hogwarts' robes. He was barefoot; he'd forgotten to grab his shoes on his way upstairs, and he wasn't going to risk a beating by going downstairs to get them.

The mirror reflected the purpling bruise on his cheekbone, and the hand marks around his neck with a harsh reality, and Remus gulped back tears—he'd wanted to go to James' house for the summer, but Mrs. Potter hadn't agreed.

Remus crept out the window, going down the trellis, and then dropping to the ground, landing on both feet with the grace that was one of the few blessings of his curse. Silently, he padded through the forest towards' the stage.

He lingered against the tree line, his eyes watching the stage. By coming through the trees, he'd avoided paying the fee to get in to the concert, and he smiled slightly at that. He didn't have the money to pay the fee, and he doubted he ever would.

The music was good, but nothing spectacular until a young person came on stage, dressed in a frock with long hair, and an acoustic guitar. The music was different, and Remus was sad to see him booed off of the stage. His name would one day be known throughout the UK—Brian Slade.

Curt Wild. The legends said that he was the child of a wolf, and Remus knew differently. When wolves bred with werewolves, the child rarely survived, the were wolf often aborting the child or smothering it so it wouldn't have to face the stigma of having a consciousness with the lycanthropy.

Glitter and leather were shining through Remus' mind after watching Wild's performance, and Remus allowed himself the luxury of wishing he could do that, before melting into the trees and making his way to the lake.

"Remus." Remus looked up from the water, looking at Severus Snape and smiling slightly. "I'd' never have thought to see you here." Severus crossed through the trees, going to stand by the young werewolf. "I didn't know you lived in Spinner's End."

"Small house, very far out of town. I came for the same reason that you did."

"Escape the arguing?" Severus didn't really mean it like a question, he meant it like a statement. "Me too. I was curious about the music. We don't really have that, do we?"

_"Are you going to Scarborough Faire?"_ Remus sang the words. "Lily sings for us, sometimes. Sirius and James know the words, but I don't, neither do you." They both knew what was in the last few words, a silent acknowledgement of their family situations.

"I wondered once, what it was like to be you." Severus stated. "I am you, though."

"Perhaps in some ways, but not in a very important way."

* * *

Several years ago:

"We moved to the hamlet of Spinners' End after I was bitten by a werewolf. Yeah. My parents thought that since no one knew us there, that we might have a chance at living an life without stigmatization. It didn't work. My parents weren't the best people to be around, and they never thought out that the village would like them less because of that. Dad got accepted—eventually, down at the less popular, less reputable pub. I think that the name was the Dirty Dog, in retrospect. All I knew was that the bartender used to call home to warn me and my mother that Father was coming home; usually drunk as a skunk." Remus paused, considering and remembering. "Tobias Snape used to drink at the Dirty Dog. He must've met my Da there."

"So you grew up near Snape?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. But we didn't really see each other very much before the musicians came to town. After that, though, everything was different."

Past:

"Have you heard?" Sirius yelled. "Slytherins are having a party!"

"And?! We're not invited!" James pointed out. It was Jamie, really. Sirius had stopped calling James by his full name when he'd found out that James shared his name with his father.

Remus internalized his laugh…they didn't have an invite, but he did. He and Peter had scored invites by hoisting several Slytherin First Years out of a swamp off of the Charms Corridor. The fact that Sirius and James had created the swamp was not mentioned to the Slytherins. Remus was planning on going that evening, though Peter wasn't.

* * *

Present:

"So you went to a Slytherin Party." Implicit in Harry's voice was the question of why that was important.

"It was at that party that Glam came to Hogwarts." Albus stated, coming into the room behind Remus. "And Remus would never be the same."

* * *

Past:

"And the album's called "Ride A White Swan!" Yelled one of the Slytherins, and Remus grinned happily in someone's arms. He wasn't sure whose, but the three mushrooms that he'd eaten might've caused that. They'd looked weird, but after that, the marijuana, and the weird powders hadn't.

* * *

Present:

"Remus was the first. He transfigured his school pants into this little leather sensation, and I remember a silk shirt that was transparent…" Albus reminisced. "Slytherin and Gryffindor followed him, then Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. But, the most surprising thing to me, was that the wizarding world didn't care."

"I began to sing." Remus stated. "I wasn't trained, so I had no idea what I was doing when I started. Later, I found the music section in the library, and then I used it, and the practice rooms in the dungeons." Albus left, closing the door behind him.

"For a year, I stayed. Then the summer after my fifth year, I was at home." Remus' voice grew sad. "I'll never forget it."

* * *

Past:

"I refuse to keep him here!" Reginald yelled at his wife, and upstairs, Remus hurriedly stuffed clothes, records, and money into his trunk. This was not good; he'd expected to have another few years, at least. "No, Miranda, I'm not keeping him in my house. He had to be a bloody wolf, but that? No. He leaves."

"Too late." Remus snarked, rubbing his face. "I'm leaving. In fact, I've been gone for awhile."

Remus found himself in London, at a little club in Kensington called the Sombrero Club, watching the stage. The colors were dizzying, and Remus wondered if the potion he'd drank on the bus might've had this affect.

All he needed was a room, a place to sleep.

"How do ye get a gig?" Remus realized that the words were coming from his mouth.

"Audition." Was the answer the barman gave, and Remus winced. He hadn't wanted to perform until he'd practiced…oh well.

" _Hairy snout, human heart,_

_Dog-Star dreaming_

_Your silver eyes poisoning mine heart._

_Look to the door, I'm not here._

_Stars above; moon below._

_Tears of the moon_

_Raining down on me_

_Primordial darkness calling._

_I leave_

_Bars obscure the silent night_

_A time for crying in her light._

Jerry Divine's eyebrow went up. The man, no, boy, really, on the stage sang with an untutored voice, but the power, the skill with which he manipulated the audience through his body and his sound was amazing.

_Smell of earth_

_Moon behind trees_

_Circling, prowling, screaming_

_Can't get out!_

_Tears of the moon_

_Raining down on me._

_Primordial darkness calling._

_I leave_

_Rat slips under flailing limbs_

_Touches knot, lets us in_

_A haunted house_

_Angry ghosts_

_Pain_

_Tears of the moon_

_Raining down on me_

_Primordial darkness calling_

_I leave._

_Too long tamed_

_Screaming for release_

_Dog-Star named_

_Watch for a flight of geese._

_Tears of the moon_

_Raining down on me_

_Primordial darkness calling_

_I leave_

_Silver eyes, dark eyes_

_You've both seen._

_But do you know?_

_Tears of the moon_

_Raining down on me_

_Primordial darkness calling_

_I leave_

_I've gone._

Remus pulled back from the microphone, his throat vibrating with the aftereffects of the last yowl…he was particularly fond of it, His smile swept the room, a dark feral promise that turned bones to water and blood to stone, a visual swan song. He had sung of geese, but in the back, Jerry Divine smelled money.

* * *

"Brian. Kurt." They looked up from the morning paper, and the coffee to see Jerry in the doorway, a smirk painted on his face in a most lurid manner. "I've found you a protégé."

"What do you mean by that?" Brian asked, his voice dark, and then he caught a glimpse of amber eyes behind Jerry. "At least let the kid come out from behind you." He added the last with a hint of a smile as Jerry moved out and away from the frail form, whose eyes were huge.

Glowing amber eyes took in the details of the kitchen, and slender arms held onto bony shoulders in an attempt to protect himself.

"Where'd Jerry find you?" Kurt asked, and the kid blinked, not saying anything. Realizing he was growling, Kurt took the time to soften his voice. "If Jerry wants us to mentor you kid, you've got a voice."

"I just don't use it 'cept to sing, these days." Remus spoke, his voice hesitant, a hand pulling on the ends of his hair. He'd grown it out, using a bit of werewolf magic to lengthen it to his hips.

"Jerry. Leave." Brian stated, a finger gesturing imperiously to the door. He pushed the kid gently into a chair. "Kid. What's your name? Favorite color?"

"Its Remus." Remus stated. "But lately, most people call me Romulus."

"The twins who created Rome." Kurt stated. "And then Romulus killed the weaker twin, Remus."

"Precisely." Remus answered.

"Why, then?" Brian asked.

"Would you want to be remembered as the sick kid? The kid who was always in the library? The sidekick?" Remus said derisively. "I've made my choice."

* * *

The smoke curled up from the tip of the joint towards the ceiling, and Remy counted the seconds until the particles caressed the ceiling, and then looked down at the man curled in his lap, a hand absentmindedly stroking blond hair.

"Why'd you take me in?" Kurt asked, and Remy sighed, running his fingers through the older man's hair.

"I was thirteen the first time I saw you." Kurt gasped. "My family lived in a little hamlet called Spinners' End. My parents were arguing, about me, as usual, and I left. Went to the concert stage, watched the musicians. You were with the Rats."

"Thirteen?" Kurt squeaked.

"A very old thirteen." Remy soothed a thumb along a cheekbone. "I grew up very fast. I was no virgin when I saw that concert."

"Who are you?" Kurt asked, realizing that he knew almost nothing about his dear friend's past. "What happened to you?" He considered, and asked, another question. "Where are you from?"

"I can't tell you everything." Remy warned, taking a long drag on his marijuana, and letting the drug calm him. "Legal reasons. My people have rather harsh ways of dealing with those who talk with outsiders."

"I won't tell." Curt swore, and Remy bent down to stub out his joint, then curled in to Curt.

"I know." Remy paused. "I wouldn't have told Jerry or Brian this." Remy warned.

* * *

Several years ago:

"Who were they?" Harry asked. "Curt Wild and Brian Slade?"

In his chair, Remus smiled.

"Curt Wild was an American." Remus began. "One of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen."

"One of?" Harry questioned.

"Yeah. I've seen four truly amazing men, and I've loved one with all my heart."

* * *

Past:

"I was born to a couple, Reginald and Miranda Lupin." Remus began. "Our family was a part of a hereditary secret society, I suppose that you'd call it. I am their only child, and the heir to the Lupin name. Or, I would have been. Thirty generations worth of money well invested would have benefited my family well, especially, since I am right handed, and born in January—those were the terms for me to claim the money. Unfortunately, for my family there was a loophole."

"What type?" Curt's question made Remus wince, and then peel down his jeans and pull up his shirt to display the scarred, reddened bite.

"I was bitten by a wolf." Remus remembered. "I was three, left outside the house while my parents argued, and I was bitten. I was found by a neighbor , not my parents, and taken to the hospital. That bite revoked my money, my parents money."

"Why'd an injury do that?" Curt was inquisitive.

"It's complicated." Remy was not going to go into it. "Anyway, my parents eventually relocated to Spinners' End. I spent the next seven years attending the public school there, and then I got my invitation."

"Suddenly, the people who surrounded my parents wanted me. I was welcome, though they wouldn't reinstate my inheritance, or ever really accept me. I would be educated in their ways, and I was finally allowed to leave." Remus paused, feeling the smudged eyeliner smearing with his tears. "I was able to leave my parents. Miranda, my Mum, she loved me, in her way, but my father, he despised me. Names, beatings, school helped me leave.

I met three people on the train to school, when I was ten. Peter, Sirius, and James. After we were placed in our dormitories, we swore something. An oath that was nigh unbreakable. Soul-siblings. They were all like I was, or how I should have been, and they didn't care that I wasn't the Heir, the Thirtieth.

The teachers didn't yell or hit, and McGonagall, our housemother, I suppose you'd call her, she loved us all…her little cats was her nickname for the younger students, and her powerful lions for the elders.

There was another kid from Spinners' End, the place where I grew up at the boarding school, and he'd been placed in a rival dormitory. Severus. He was…everything."

"What happened?" Curt questioned.

"I broke every rule of the community. I fell in love."

"How is that breaking rules?" Curt asked, and Remy sighed.

"The ruling group has so closely inhibited me and people with a similar injury, that we are not allowed to marry, not allowed to bond with someone, not allowed to have children." Remy touched his hand to his stomach. "I fell in love with a shooting star, who, because of the desexualization of my kind, never saw me as a person. He never noticed me as more than a friend, an asexual being."

"There's a but in that sentence." Kurt stated.

"Yeah. Severus." Remy sighed. "My kind mate for life. If I ever injured a lover, and I was injured as well, we would be bound. We had one night."

"Is this Severus yours?" Curt asked, wondering at why his friends voice had gone scratchy.

"He rejected me." Remy stated. "I woke up, blood on my lips and on my neck, and he wasn't there."

* * *

Several years ago :

"Sirius." The picture was faded, a bit, but the feeling was still there. "Sirius loved glam. He loved the glitter." Remus reminisced.

"What happened to Brian Slade? To Curt Wild?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"I last saw Brian Slade on the day of a concert at the Lyceum. Shot in the chest. It was, I believe, a publicity stunt. He is, still alive." Remy answered. "Curt, though."

"Curt Wild is in the States." Continued Remus. "He has a bar there."

"If it isn't rude," Harry began, "Why did you rejoin the wizarding community? And when?"

* * *

Past:

"Jack Fairy!" Jack's arms went tight around Remy's shoulders, his eyes taking in the haggard face.

"Hey pup." Jack grinned. From across the table, Curt smirked at Remy. "How've you been?"

"Brian," Remy began, "asked me to do him a favor." Remy's eyes were dark. "Wanted cocaine." The darkness surfaced, rolling through the room, exploring concealed corners. "I slapped him so hard that he'll need cover up."

"What do you have against drugs?" Curt's eyes looked over the ragged coat, the shining eyes.

"My da was on smack, once." Remy's voice was the dark, seething rage that few had ever heard off of the stage; Sirius, James, and Peter had heard it for nearly killing Severus. The voice boiled and simmered, fumes of pain and anger layering it, adding mystery. "Curt, you had shock therapy, so you know what I mean when I talk about live electricity." Remy could feel the anger, the rage, and beneath it all, the complete terror, and as his inner wolf stirred, he struggled to remain in control. "My da raped me. I was tied with live wires."

"You have reason, then." Curt stated.

"I'll do the concert." Remus' voice was full of joy again, his eyes shining. "We practice here in London, correct?"

* * *

Several years ago:

"The Death of Glitter concert." Harry stated. "They still talk about it at Hogwarts, how half of the upper years got tickets, and went, and how someone managed to broadcast it into the common rooms. I've seen bits and snippets of it."

"Severus had tickets." Remus stated. "Albus got them for him as a gift, said he'd heard that one of the bands playing was wizarding; they weren't, but I saw the most beautiful creature."

* * *

Past:

The howl was primordial, and Remus let dark knowledge slip into his voice as the sound vibrated in his chest and throat as he prowled onto the stage from the wings.

The leather pants were tight, almost crushingly so, around his hips and ass, molding to the skin and giving them a tone that wasn't immediately obvious when he wore jeans. There was a shirt; but then, it wasn't really a shirt. Remus had painted his chest with amber glitter, patterns in tiny jewels that caressed pale skin, then faded as it got closer to his neck and face.

His eyes swept the crowd, amber orbs smiling ferally.

Within the crowd, Severus Snape shivered with anticipation.

"_Do you call my name at night_

_Scream for me in times with out light_

_Do you wonder if I'm alive?_

_Look for me tonight, I strive._

_I'm yours, your creature,_

_Dark and dangerous_

_And I howl to the moon!_

_Look for me in the shadow_

_Never in the light._

_Close a door, open a window_

_I'm just out of sight_

_Waiting for you._

_I'm yours'_

_Your creature_

_And I howl to the moon!!_

* * *

Remus stumbled into the hotel room he was sharing with Curt at ten am, his eyes red with lack of sleep; his hair tousled from energetic tussles.

"You look…" Curt began,

"Like I got laid?" Remus grinned, cocking his neck to show the fresh bite mark. "Yeah. And claimed." He paused, eyes downcast. "I'm getting picked up at noon."

"Ahh. I thought you hadn't any intention of being with your community again?" Curt asked rhetorically. "Will you at least keep in touch?"

"As I can." Remus answered, his fingers brushing the tip of his wand. "I may not be allowed to."

* * *

Several years ago:

"What happened was short and brief." Remus explained to Harry. "I realized later that Albus had manipulated Severus and myself, knowing of my feelings. He didn't know about the bond, or hadn't told Severus. I live in half of a bond, and it hurts."

* * *

Half a year ago:

"Happy Birthday." Remus raised an eyebrow at the glittering black envelope in his lap. Albus' gifts were notoriously surprising, and with nimble fingers he opened the envelope. "Tickets to the Tommy Stone concert in New York?"

"I have it on good authority your friends will be there."

Remus walked into the bar, going to the bartender and ordering.

"I'd like whiskey." Remus paused, then continued. "Straight. Shot, please. And send a pitcher of water 'round to my table, with a sandwich." He walked to a chair at a table in the corner.

"Aren't you Romulus?" Someone asked, and Remy raised an eyebrow.

"It's been a long time since I've heard that name."

"Arthur Stuart, from the Herald." Remy shook the reporter's hand. "Are you here for the Stone concert?"

"Yeah." It had been awhile, but Remus slipped into Romulus' carefree character with ease. "I went. Complete shite, of course. He's letting Shannon call the shots."

"Oh?" Arthur asked.

"I remember you when you lived with the Flaming Creatures, don't tell me you didn't recognize Brian."

"I had my suspicions, yes." Remus drawled. "And when I saw the name of the personal assistant, I knew. I'll warn you that publishing that may cause injuries."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Brian will not sacrifice his second chance at fame." Remus stated, and then stood, placing a $20 note on the table, walking out the door.

* * *

Three months after that (the several years ago thing):

"Remy?" Curt questioned. "Is that you?" The graying man in the corner turned from his drink, and nodded, gesturing him into the seat in front of him. He clapped the werewolf over the shoulder. "Man, you've gotten old."

"Not that old." Remy answered, eyes bright. "It was a very long time." His fingers touched the hilt of the knife hidden in his pocket, in an inner-clothing sheath. "I certainly didn't expect to live this long."

"So where've you been?" Curt asked.

"I've been in the UK, mostly, working for the man who let me go to school with that community I told you about." Remus answered. "I'd forgotten who I was, there, and having gone back, it's changed me."

"I noticed. Have you never heard of hair dye?" Curt asked, and Remus raised his hand to his hair. "Honestly; gray?"

"I teach." Remus rejoined. "I'm not strong enough to hold attention with my presence, so I don't dye my hair, to keep the whole 'respect thy elders' belief helping me."

"Teaching. You." Curt grinned at the dichotomy. "Why?"

"I spent several years working as an operative for a rather secretive group. After that, I couldn't find a job in the community, so, for awhile, I lived outside, working as a tutor, until I got an invite to teach some of what I learned as an operative." Remus attempted to explain. "I haven't sung in years, not in public."

"You haven't?" Curt was aghast. "Why not?"

"I was an operative, so, for awhile, singing was a cover, but over the years, singing became a luxury I could not afford."

"What happened with Severus?"

"He never wanted me, not after a week. I made my choice to not inform him of the bond."

* * *

Present:

Nymphadora Tonks looked down at the scrap of paper, making sure the addresses matched before knocking on the door.

A longhaired man, with bleached blond hair and bluish-grey eyes opened the door, blinking blearily at the bubble-gum pink hair that was Tonks' current color.

"Cool hair." He commented. "Who're you?"

"Nymphadora Tonks. Call me Tonks. Are you one Curt Anthony Wild?"

"Yeah. Why?" Curt asked.

"Remus Lupin is in a coma, and you're listed as his next of kin." Tonks said sadly. "I've been given governmental permission to bring you into the wizarding world…extenuating circumstances."

"Let me get my coat, and leave a note for my lover." Tonks nodded at the words.

"Could I come in?" She asked, and Curt gestured her in.

* * *

"Are you Curt Wild?" The boy asking the question had shaggy black hair, and was wearing a long black…was that a frock?…and he had the same gleam in his eye that Remus had.

"Yeah. Who're you?" Curt asked, and the kid ran a hand through his hair.

"Harry Potter. Remus would have been my second godfather if the wizarding world weren't such prats."

"What happened?" Curt asked. He'd asked Tonks, who'd shook her head, refusing to answer. "That woman, Tonks, she wouldn't tell me!"

"Uncle Moony took a curse full in the chest for me." Harry's voice was sad, and his eyes red. "He hasn't been the same since Snape defected, and he had to take the position of McGonagall's second."

"What's going on?" Curt asked, and Harry's eyes widened.

"You mean that Uncle Moony didn't tell you?" A shift passed over his face. "Of course, the Statute of Secrecy. The penalties are worse for a werewolf."

"Werewolf?" He paused. "He said he was bitten by a wolf, that that was the reason he was shunned."

"That is technically true." Harry's words were measured, and he gestured the former rock star to a chair. "I'll explain. The wizarding world is a small community of about a thousand people here in England who can do things that other humans can't. We have a small, insular community that has very stringent laws, especially those who have magic, but aren't quite human." Harry stood, pacing. "Werewolfs are perhaps the worst treated of those." Harry remembered how the laws were. "Werewolfs are rarely born, these days, even though the born werewolfs have a physically easier time shifting, because of the laws and the shunning against werewolfs, and for crimes that would imprison wizards for a year, werewolves are killed outright. They are branded with a number, not allowed to inherit, work for the government, or work as healers. They cannot have children legally." Harry paused. "Perhaps the most cruel is that they are castrated. Remus was, when he was three."

"Castration?" Curt questioned.

"They removed his testicles." Harry replied.

"Why am I here?" Curt asked, desparate to change the subject.

"I'm not of age to be chosen of next of kin." Harry began. "Albus, our leader, he died. He was never close to Minerva. Sirius is alive, but on the run. And Snape defected." Harry tried to figure out how to go on. "He took a curse in the chest."

"A curse?"

"A blast of energy, usually causing a pre-determined outcome." Harry explained. "Remus was hit with a concussion type…it impacted his lungs." Before his eyes flashed the scene. "I'd never even heard of it, until Poppy, our healer, explained it. Very rarely used, in fact, it was a lost curse until Remus found it in the library in school. He only taught it to five people, and of those, only three are alive."

"So, Severus Snape, then." Curt remembered the name.

"Yeah. Snape." Harry's voice thickened with loathing and sadness. "Snape, Wormtail, or Sirius, and Sirius is currently unavailable."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, what happened then." Harry began. "But now." Harry paused, trying to remember. "Snape slept with Remus for maybe two weeks, after he'd convinced Uncle Moony to rejoin the wizarding world. I'm not sure what happened after that, other than Uncle Moony passed his NEWTs a few months later, then he joined the war effort, becoming one of the top agents aligned to the Order of the Phoenix. After the war was finished, he'd lost my dad and my mom, killed by the other side. Sirius was arrested for murder, and their friend Peter was dead, supposedly at Sirius' hand. What actually happened to Remus during the next few years is…questionable." Harry paused, considering. "I first met Uncle Remus when he came to teach my third year classes. He was grey-haired, drawn, but one of the most brilliant teachers I've had to date. He quit before he was eventually fired by the Board of Governors for being a werewolf, and since then has gone back to being an agent for the order."

"And that means…what exactly?" Kurt asked.

"Missions to contact people, spy on people. If he weren't a werewolf, Uncle Moony would be a curse breaker or such for Gringotts, or an Auror." Harry paused. "For awhile, he watched me during the summer, and then eventually began to train me and several others for the war." Hands twisted in his lap. "I am the only one he trained that survived; that was because he took a curse in the chest. I may not survive the next battle, without Uncle Moony at the helm of the light."

* * *

"This sucks." It was a statement that Remus had never wanted to say, but he supposed that he'd been around students for too long not to. "Are you sure your partner won't mind me living with you for the next few months?"

"Nah. Arthur won't mind."

"What, you thought I wouldn't mind!???" Arthur yelled. "You couldn't have called to ask me if an old friend of yours' coud stay here?"

"Well, I thought that you wouldn't mind." Curt tried to defend himself. "At least let us into the apartment?" Arthur hesitantly opened the door, and Curt wheeled Remus into the apartment.

"Who is this?" Arthur asked.

"Remus Lupin, meet Arthur Stuart, my lover." Remus smiled, lightly, and stretched out a hand. You could see the veins through the papery skin, but Arthur shook it. "Arthur, Remus was Romulus, during the seventies."

"You played the Death of Glitter concert." Arthur remembered. "And were one of the warm-up acts for the Lyceum concert."

"Yeah." Remy coughed into his hand, his shoulder's shaking as his lungs tried to expel phlegm and blood. When the fit of coughing died away, he removed his hand from his lips, staring down at the blood that dripped off his fingers. Curt gave him a handkerchief, and Remy nodded his thanks, cleaning off his lips and hand. "Jerry found me at the Sombrero club. Next thing I knew, I wasn't just singing for me supper, more than the club circuits knew me. I've heard that "Creature" is still played on the radio, these days."

"_Creature_ was always your most felt song." Curt remarked, and Remy laughed, smiling. "But _Tears of the Moon_ had a subtlety."

"I wrote _Tears_ as a thing to do behind locked doors. My da couldn't get in, but I couldn't get out. _Creature _was a memory. A reality."

"So why are you here?" Arthur had to question.

"I'm ill, as you can see, but I'm the second of a fairly powerful group in Britain, Arthur, and it was decided by the leadership that I needed to recover in a safe place, to work in a safe place." Remy considered. "There aren't many left who remember that Remus Lupin was Romulus, protégé of Brian Slade and Curt Wilde. And those who do remember; well, it would be interesting if they came after me."

* * *

"What are these maps and pieces of paper about?" Arthur asked, and Remus looked up from his latest report—Tonk's field report on the last mission in Wiltshire.

"I'm a second. It's planning for a major military maneuver."

"Military?" Arthur squeaked, and Remus quirked an eyebrow.

"What, did you think you were the first wizard to leave the wizarding world for glam rock?" Arthur's eyes went wide. "I remember that you were my year, a Hufflepuff. I'm surprised that you didn't recognize me, but then, I left before you did."

"Who do you…" Arthur trailed off.

"I work for the Order of the Phoenix. I'm the second of Minerva McGonagall, but in reality, I'm the strategic head of the military branch. I'm also skilled in the field."

"What happened that McGonagall's the head of the Order?" Arthur asked. "Did Headmaster Dumbledore die?"

"Yes. Death curse." Arthur's eyes opened wide. "Yeah. The leader of the light's dead, and is being replaced by James Potter's son."

"And Remus Lupin, scared kid, nose in a book, sickly child is a military strategist?" Arthur questioned sarcastically. "What happened to change you from the teen I barely remember into that?"

"Severus Snape." Remus answered. "He brought me back after the Death of Glitter concert, then left." Remus remembered, brushing fingers over the bitemark on his neck; it had scarred over, years before. "I became an agent, somehow, Albus realized I had a flair for planning battles, and I became the fourth to James and Lily Potter's third."

"Lily Evans married James?" Arthur laughed. "I never thought that they'd actually get together. They hate eachother!"

"Hated. James and Lily are dead, killed by Voldemort." Both went silent, remembering that name. "We had years of peace, then war again." Remus remembered the years of peace with sadness.

* * *

Arthur grinned at the article on his desk, fresh off the press, front page of the Herald.

**Do You Remember?**

**Curt Wild, Jack Fairy, and Romulus have reunited for one concert. For those of you who don't remember, this is the fifteenth year-anniversary of the Death of Glitter concert. **

**Curt Wild, American rocker, Jack Fairy, British Pop Sensation, and Romulus, the nebulous former protégé of Wild and the musician known as Brian Slade, have reunited to perform a concert, playing at the Rainbow Theatre, in London. Currently the three are cutting a record in New York.**

On the side of the article was a photo of the three; an obvious publicity photo, with Jack Fairy, standing, an eyebrow quirked, Curt Wild standing next to him, a hand wrapped around his waist, and Romulus kneeling between them, amber eyes glimmering with an unknown light through hair that was touching the floor. Jack Fairy and Curt hand one hand on each of Romulus' shoulders, and Remus' hands covered their hands.

* * *

In Spinner's End, Severus folded the newspaper, and rubbed his nose. He now knew where Remus was, but he had a dilemma. He didn't want to betray him.

Fingers traced absentmindedly over the scarred bite on his neck. It had been years since he'd seduced and left Remus Lupin, and he still wondered if the leaving part had been right.

"I'm going to the concert at the Rainbow." Harry'd been arguing with Minerva for hours, mainly about going to see the concert. He'd acquired four tickets…and he wasn't going to give them up.

"All right." Minerva threw up her hands, and then gave Harry a microscopic camera. "If you're going to, at least broadcast it to us. Hogwarts hasn't seen a concert in years. Since the Death of Glitter concert. You will enjoy watching Remy do what he does best."

"Remy, why'd you cut your hair?" Arthur asked, helping the still frail werewolf by brushing out his hair. "When you got here, your hair was to your shoulders, but when you performed, it was to your waist." It was now past his waist, spiraling down his spine and over his bottom too about mid-thigh.

"It was getting in my way." Remy admitted. "It's hard to fight a war with hair that has to be braided or pinned back, every day. I eventually had it cut off." An alarm went off on the wall; 'five minutes until curtain.'

* * *

_You said I should sing_

_That you'd love the joy it would bring_

_Well, I've lost hope since then_

_And now, I know I can't cope_

Illusions have left 

_The lack of glitter making us bereft_

_And all I can wish is;_

_I hope you dance._

_I pray you sing;_

_And somewhere, I finger_

_Songs in the dark_

_Grip the microphone tight_

_Out under the stage's lights_

_All around you is lime,_

_Slowly driving you sublime_

_I pen my odes under trees_

_Sitting writing on bent knees_

_Leaves falling capture song_

_I grasp notes, it won't be long_

_On the stage you twitch with worry_

…_.won't be long_

_years have gone without my face_

_I clutch the cure, I'm in that space,_

_You haven't grown, of that I have surety._

_I know I have it, that overwhelming mobility._

_I'm back tonight_

_Glittering, rhyming, twitching_

_The limelight pulls_

_And I'm back tonight !_

* * *

Harry touched his fingers to Remus' throat; there was no pulse. Remy's hand was clenched around Severus' hand, holding tightly to it. They were sprawled on the remains of the Rainbow Theatre's stage.

"He just came in here, after Remy's last set." Curt stated. "Kissed Remy, said that he loved him, then killed Remy. Then he suicided."

* * *

_Emperor he is, has been_

_Dark eyes obsidian with sight's seen_

_War stricken_

_Crimson lace_

_Green lightening striking high_

_All that's left is empty space_

_Shiny songs bright_

_Blues and greens replacing_

_Yellows, pinks, and orange,_

_Darkened songs sand lightly_

_Who I was, I am no longer_

_Tags of innocence lost_

_In memories of war._

_All that's left is empty space._


End file.
